NINE DAYS LATER Ethan is airlifted and transferred to Blakely Children’s Hospital.
Our prayers have been answered.
A new heart is on the way.
The idea that someone else’s child, this particular child, had to die so that mine could live is excruciatingly painful and nearly unbearable.
***
WAITING FOR HOURS while the team of medical experts gives our son new life is gut-wrenching, my heart stammers in my chest and my tears flow ceaselessly. My arms never leave their place around my husband’s back as he stares at the images of Tre on his phone.
I have never seen a man in more agony.
The memory of Stacy bursting through the door, screaming that Tre had been hit by a car while riding his bicycle was shockingly horrific. No one would have expected his life to end that moment. No one would have expected he would be the donor we prayed for. No one would have expected he would be a perfect match for his cousin.
It rocked me to my core and caused Tyler’s knees to buckle, sending him to the linoleum floor with a hard crash.
His body shuddered when he cried out a single word and buried his face in his palms. I wanted to reach down and gather the millions of pieces of his broken heart.
Those words will forever be etched in my mind.
Tyler didn’t speak. He didn’t eat. He didn’t move. He simply sat in the NICU and stared at Ethan.
It wasn’t until he heard Jill’s voice on the phone that he come back to me. Back to us.
I held the phone to his ear while he listened. Jill’s insistence that Tre’s heart be immediately tested as a match was an incredible testament to her faith in God. Everything she believes in was tested and proven strong as ever as she made the decision no parent should ever have to make.
“Thank y—,” he whimpered before emotion robbed him of speech.
I sobbed uncontrollably when she told me she had made the decision to donate all her son’s organs so he could save other children’s lives.
“It’s what he would’ve wanted.”
That conversation plays over and over as we continue to wait.
***
“MOM, IT’S TAKING so long,” I say as I hiccup. “Something has to be wrong.”
“Sweetheart, that baby is in the best hands possible.”
I meet Stacy’s sad eyes and silently apologize, wishing there had been another way.
Tyler still has not uttered a single word. I know his heart is completely and irrevocably broken.
Through the window, I see the sun descend and the sky darken.
My eyes fall heavily, my body weary and restless.
My father offers a cup of coffee, but I shake my head and decline it.
As we approach the fifth hour, a tall figure appears in the distance and I blink through the haziness.
“Tyler. Karrie.”
My husband jumps to his feet and stands before the door.
The pediatric cardiologist sighs and then smiles warmly. “Your little boy did beautifully. Ethan’s new heart is beating loud and strong.”
Throwing his arms around the doctor’s shoulders, Tyler sobs and thanks him profusely. I rise slowly and join Tyler as my hand rubs circles on his back when he refuses to let the doctor go,
With a clearing of his throat, the doctor says, “The road ahead won’t be easy, but I think he’s going to be just fine. He seems like a fighter.”
“Did you hear that?” Stacy cries, running her hands through Tyler’s hair. “Tre’s heart is strong. He gave Ethan his strong heart.”
***
SINCE ETHAN IS in critical condition, I insist that Tyler accompany his mother to Georgia for Tre’s memorial service. I, on the other hand, refuse to leave my son’s side.
“I’ll be back tomorrow night.” Tyler kisses me chastely and tells me that he loves me. He reaches up and taps his heart twice.
I’m right there with you.
“I’ll be right here waiting for you.” I smile at him, the man who I once hated and now love beyond measure.
Tyler looks down at his phone before sliding it into his pocket.
“Rachel.”
I nod, accepting his explanation.
“Please tell her I’m still praying for Alexandra.”
Penny’s little girl, the child she conceived with my husband, is making small improvements every day. The Department of Child Services stepped in and temporarily revoked Penny’s parental rights, taking over custody of the toddler.
Alex Parker would be mortified for his child.
“Come here,” Tyler insists.
The air in my lungs expels as his arms wrap tightly around me joining our bodies—our souls — together as one.
“I don’t know if I can do this without you,” he pleads as his eyes fill with moisture.
“You can. You can do this.” I caress his wet face.
“I don’t understand why it had to be this way,” he mumbles into my neck.
“I know. I don’t understand either.”
“How do I say goodbye to him?”
“You don’t.” I shake my head. “Tell him you’ll see him later…just like you always did.”
With a quiet, broken voice, he whispers, “You’re incredible.” He looks down at my wedding ring and lifts my hand to his lips. A slow reverent kiss is placed on each knuckle.
I pull my hand away and gently cup his face. “And you…” I wipe away the tears, “you are stronger than ever.”
***
I STAND OVER the hard, clear plastic protecting my baby boy from germs and infection and smile at him. Glancing at the heart monitor, I watch the line spike up and drop down, a sign of his healthy heartbeat.
“Hi, baby! You’re doing great, buddy. Before you know it, you’ll be crawling around and making a mess.”
In his sleep, his chubby cheeks pull back in a smile. I wonder what he’s dreaming about.
I pull my eyes away from his face and look down to the line on his tiny chest.
“You and Daddy match.” My voice cracks, but I try to stay strong.
“You are such a special little boy! Do you know that?” I reach into the hole and touch his long fingers. “You’ve got racing hands, don’t you?”
Overcome with the realization of how much my life has changed, I swallow the boulder in my throat. I thank God for His precious gifts.
“I love you and your daddy so much. You boys make my life complete. And now,” I smile, “I am stronger than ever.”